A Box of Chocolates
by Crystalline Green
Summary: A place to collect fluff and nonsense. Expect infrequent additions of unrelated oddities, frivolous in nature; because I need something light and easy to dip in & out of. You never know what you're gonna get...
1. Cuckoo

_Greetings once more lovely people. I find myself needing to distract myself from the grimness of real life with a little fluff and nonsense. I think perhaps I will use this space in which to do so with whatever should pop into my head, so expect oddities and frivolity, however possibly to probably infrequently, we shall see._

_Suggestions or prompts may be considered, as they say, 'Can't start a fire without a spark'. I will do my best, or should that be worst?_

__Playing with other people's toys always was more fun…__

* * *

><p><strong>1<strong>

** Cuckoo**

There is an antique clock hanging on the living room wall in the cabin belonging to Beckett's father. It is ornate and beautifully detailed, festooned in leaves of the forest which camouflage tiny carvings of woodland creatures and, best of all, a magnificent stag stands proudly at the top, baying, surely calling out to the herd. The piece is crafted entirely in rich dark wood and when it catches the early evening light from the window, it shimmers. She remembers being fascinated by the clock as a child, finding something new to look at even after an age looking, imagining she saw movement in the leaves and of the tiny creatures, even seeing the stag's breath billowing on a cold winter's morning.

Kate was pleased to see that the clock had also captured her daughter's heart. Even when it wasn't in action, Lilly would stand below it looking up to the space it held on the wall. "Clock" was a new word, learnt just this weekend and it seemed her current her favorite, used often when she was drawn here. Her little girl, so similar to herself at that age, already tall with an athletic build, her chestnut hair is long with a slight curl to it, but she is feisty enough to not like anyone messing with it too much. She wants to be doing, not sitting around, not for any reason so long as she has an ounce of energy left in her body – which is essentially all the time.

She picked her daughter up and propped her easily on her hip, just as she remembered her mother doing with her when she was small. Kate set the clock in motion, beginning the sway of the pinecone pendulum with her free hand. Lilly watched with rapture as the motion continued, Kate saw her eyes tracking the side to side motion of the long swing. "Tick tock." The girl said almost in time with the clock, while the pendulum drove the gears within. Together they watched until Lilly directed her attention back to Kate's face. "'Gain" she said, demanding further action from her, knowing there was more to see.

Happy to oblige, Kate began to twirl the clocks hands, setting it close to the hour. "Nine!" Kate exclaimed pointing to the numeral on the dial. "You're in for a treat today." With less than a minute to wait, Kate focused her attention back on the girl who was once again watching dividing her attention between the pendulum and the clock's face, anticipation clearly displayed on her own. Her hazel eyes glittered and as the anticipation built she began to giggle, Kate could feel her small body coiling up, the tension mounting. A loud click sounded as the mechanism released, the girl had learned that this was the signal for action to begin, it alone was enough for another spate of giggling to bubble up from within her. The following loud chime from within the clock made the girl both startle and laugh with pure joy. She focused all her attention now on the small door near the apex of the clock, just in time to witness the door flap abruptly open and a small, yet startlingly blue bird, erupt into space, 'Cuckoo' the bellows inside blew. The bird retracted, the gong sounded again and the bird popped back. On her hip the girl bounced, jiggled and giggled, throwing her head back with renewed laughter after each cycle completed and reset. After the ninth and final time the girl was still fixated hoping for more. Kate knew what came next and the girl did not let her down. "One more time." She said, both hoping for and knowing that Kate would indulge, at least once more.

Playing the game though Kate asked "Again?!" in mock incredulity. Bringing forth yet more merriment, from her beautiful little girl.

"More." She nodded her confirmation, eyes wide and expression of pure love.

"You got it." she said placing a quick peck on her nose, then her check and finally blowing a raspberry on her neck which caused her to squirm and shriek with musical laughter. A sound Kate would never ever tire of hearing, it was her favorite thing in the world, her everything.

* * *

><p>The clock left a lasting impression.<p>

Weeks later Castle had been tasked with driving them to collect Alexis from the airport, returning from a trip to catch up with some college friends. Kate was in the back with her girl, not a bad place to be in her opinion, but it felt slightly strange. Alexis was already waiting as Castle pulled up, he jumped out to greet her with kisses and hugs before he helped her load her cases in the trunk.

"Hey you guys." She greeted occupants in the back having clambered into her seat, immediately turning see them. "There's my Lilly!" she called with exuberance.

Her little sister bucked in her seat kicking her legs out wanting out of her seat to claim her hug. "'Lexi, 'Lexi," she chanted.

Alexis clambered further back, sneaking in a quick kiss "You get a hug when we're home, 'kay Squirt?" then she looked to Kate, "You too." she said with a smile.

Castle was back behind the wheel positively buzzing with energy. "Everyone buckled up?" he asked loudly, waiting for the affirmative from everyone before he would pull back out into traffic.

Just as he was filtering towards the freeway, a cab cut them up forcing Castle to slam the breaks on hard. Although they were not traveling excessively fast, the momentum of the rapid stop affected everyone. Castle only just held his tongue, or rather he managed to not swear, Alexis Likewise. Kate's attention was drawn first forward to the cause of the incident, but swiftly to her little girl in her car seat next to her. She however found nothing alarming about the whole thing, indeed as the momentum brought her forward rapidly, her harness pulling at her shoulders, her little voice piped up "Cuckoo!"

Despite her shock of the rapid stop and probable near miss, Kate found herself laughing with her daughter. Here, as always she found her little Lilly utterly captivating, so innocent and effervescent, already showing signs she would take after Castle with the quick creativeness of her mind.

However shortly after, as Kate calmed down and once the cab had pulled away leaving their path clear to go once more, she rolled her eyes and puffed out her cheeks in relief.

"Hey, Castle?" she called to him from behind his driver's seat. "No more Cuckoo stops."


	2. Clinging

_Hijacking the 'cuddles/hugs' whatsit I've seen some of you guys writing on here, not sure of the etiquette of joining in - pretty sure this is not the correct way, sorry - but I can't stop my brain and my fingers connecting especially when the laptop is close by. Anyhow I hope you will excuse me borrowing one of the headers, because this popped in there as soon as I saw it._

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><p><strong>2<strong>

**Clinging**

Castle found himself awestruck. He did the only thing he possibly could, he supported her weight as she leaned up against him clinging to his neck, her body shaking with the intensity of the experience. This was it, the end game, after hours of waiting, feeling useless as she worked through the process, finding her way, allowing her instincts to guide her. Here as was often the case, they seemed to be bang on the money, she trusted her body, listened to everything it was telling her and allowed herself to become a slave to it, never resisting she worked with it.

Her breathing became deep and controlled as she focused on just this one thing. The heat of her breath on the tender skin of his neck was quite stunning. She was running hot, her exertion bumping up her body temperature up even more in this already very warm room. He made a mental note to ask if she wanted a cold compress just as soon as this was over. If she didn't, he thought he might be in need of one himself. She was a furnace, heat radiating to him through the fabric of her once loose fitting vest top. She had also stolen a pair of his favourite boxers, claiming they were the only thing comfortable enough to wear.

He felt her reach the zenith, the tension lessening in her arms and hands which had been exerting pressure on his shoulders and neck which had become painful in her powerful embrace, but he could not, would not, complain. He always said she was extraordinary, but until this day he had absolutely no idea of how profoundly, deeply true that statement was. 'You have no idea' she had said to him once, long ago and again he could not have anticipated the depth of her strength, courage and determination, or the extent to which she could draw upon them when she required. Of course he had seen each of those things and more from her since that time and he was well aware of the ferocity she harboured within, which she channelled into productivity, especially with regard to her work. But since he had been with her, he also felt the ferocity of her love. It frequently left him reeling, as he was now, he was dizzy with it. What was especially rare was that her ferocity was twinned with compassion, it made her a great detective, a great woman and lover and he had no doubt she would be great once more in her new role, just about to begin in this next chapter of her life, that of a mother. Soon now, very soon.

"That's it," he murmured into her ear, he felt her coming down, slowly relaxing into him now, "God, Kate, you're doing so well." This was all so very different from the last time in was in this position, then he had been with a woman who was a shrieking, freaking mess and she only had to make it to the hospital, where a C-section would be performed.

But now he sensed the power of Kate in a whole new way, her quiet yet steely determination washing away all the doubts she had spoken of in the days leading up to this one. Her fear was gone, she welcomed her labour, she felt invigorated and motivated, she knew exactly what she had to do. Everything leading up to the long awaited, highly anticipated moment they would meet their child. And she longed for it.

Castle worked his hands over her lower back, kneading into her muscles there, trying to relieve some of the tension and pain he knew she had been enduring all day. "You take my breath away."

She eased back as she temporarily reclaimed control of her body once more. Pulling back to see him, still lightly resting her hands on his shoulders, her eyes flashed. Even with her pupils widely dilated as they were, he could clearly see that hazel of her irises had turned to green. Long ago he learned this could serve as a warning, signposting 'danger'. In the early days, failing to notice had cost his ear dearly, however the colour of her eyes changed in moments of passion and also when she teased the green reflected her mirth. While sometimes confusing, he knew her well enough to know the difference - most of the time. He thought perhaps now there was a little of all three mingled in together.

"Your breath?" she asked, a slight twitch of the eyebrows soon followed by that of her mouth, as she fought to regain hers. She sucked in huge lungfuls of recovery breaths, flooding her system with oxygen, she knew she was soon going to need it along with all the strength she could muster.

"Anything you need?" he asked "You're roasting. A cold compress, maybe some more ice chips?"

She shook her head, "No, not just now, I have everything I need right here." She closed in to give him a soft kiss, putting everything she no longer had the energy to say into it.

Slowly parting, they said in unison "I love you".

"We're close Castle," she said holding his gaze with her own, already feeling the rising of the next onslaught "really close." her words becoming pinched as she leant in once more, taking comfort in the closeness of him, assuming the most comfortable position she possibly could.

"Already?" he asked, glancing at the clock on the wall, taking notice of the time, and how little had elapsed since the last one.

"Mm-hmm" she gave her hummed response and settled against him, but soon she began to rock on the balls of her feet, he compensated instinctively, mirroring her movements giving maximum support and allowing her the freedom of movement her body was demanding. "'S good" she breathed as they performed their strange clinging hug-come-dance.

Castle heard the door creak as it opened, and their midwife breezed in. She stood just inside, observing the couple, giving them space as they worked their way through Kate's contraction. They were doing remarkably well. Some women, especially those for whom this was their first baby, would shout and curse, others became hysterical, but others were focused and calm throughout, the same could be said for their partners. So far, the later had described this couple and judging by the progress they had already made, experience told her that it would not change for them, so long as everything continued to run smoothly.

Kate let out a soft moan of discomfort as her contraction peaked, her breath momentarily stolen away from her, but slowly she felt it tapering off and welcomed the rest that came with it, though she still rocked with Castle, now finding her mind sufficiently free to enjoy their closeness.

"Mind if I cut in?" Ray asked as she approached them. "How're we going in here?" Castle liked the midwife, she was small and had a boyishness about her. She had scruffy hair, a little like Kate's had been when they first met, but even shorter than hers had been. Ray had an ease and warmth of personality which made her instantly likeable, but she also exuded professional confidence. Yes, it was fair to say she reminded him of Beckett in more ways than just similarities in hairstyle. Ray was part of the reason they had chosen this facility, they had committed staff for each of their clients and Ray had been with them right though the planning process. The centre also impressed, with its relaxed unobtrusive atmosphere, which both he and Kate felt they wanted, yet they still had the security the facility and its trained staff had to offer.

Kate disentangled herself from Castle and turned to face Ray. "Okay," she said breathlessly, "the last two were really close together and strong."

"That's good." Ray said, "Looks like you're dealing well with this just as you are, but if you change your mind about pain relief there are a couple of things we can try. Just keep that in mind." Kate nodded, though she didn't intend on taking the offer up, not if she could help it. She felt clear and focused and didn't really want anything to interfere with that.

Ray patted the bed, "Hop up here, we'll see how close you really are." Kate shucked the boxers and ungainly manoeuvred herself onto the bed with Castles help, opting to crouch on her hands and knees. Castle stayed close by, gathering cushions to support her, placing them just where she needed them without having to be told. "You've got a good one there Kate." she smiled, giving Castle a wink. "Have you felt like you have the urge to push yet?"

"No, not quite, but I feel like I might be close. I guess I would describe it as steadily increasing pressure." Kate replied and just as she said that, she felt her muscles begin to tighten once more. Castle must have read the tell-tale signs, his hands began roaming soothingly over her back, while Ray gave Kate the once over.

"Good news Kate, you're nearly fully dilated. Won't be long now." Kate found rocking really helped so she continued her rhythmic movements through the contraction. "I'd say just keep doing what you're doing. I'll be just down the hall and will be back in a few, but call me when you feel the urge." And with that Ray stepped out, leaving them alone once more.

Kate made to scoot off the bed when the contraction ended. "I want to move a bit, standing helps."

Castle came to her, caressing the swell of her belly. "Almost there." he said.

She placed her hands atop his. "Almost there."


	3. The Watch

_This is for my Dad, whose battle is not with the bottle, but with cancer – one he is losing. Seeing him like this I feel the importance of remembering all the better times, the fun we've & the lessons he has taught me. It has made me appreciate all the things he's done for me. While he is not my Biological father, he's the only dad I have ever known. I love you. x_

* * *

><p>She had been in the hospital for 18 hours already, and she felt the exhaustion of the day weighing heavily on her. Beckett sat beside her father's bed, the hiss and puff of the respirator a constant in the room. He had been put in a medically induced coma, in an attempt to relieve pressure on his brain and buy him time to heal.<p>

Typically the call had come at near the end of a long shift at work, then already drained, she found herself thrown into emotional turmoil once more. On some level she had been expecting a call like that for some time, it was only a question of when and how. She listened to the information given to her, feeling adrenalin begin to flush through her veins, but she would not allow herself to become panicked. She would hold herself together now as she always did, gathering her fear and compressing it, making it small. She would deal with it through action, this was her coping strategy and it worked for her, for the most part.

She had excused herself from work, giving her Captain the information she had. He was already well aware of her father's situation, and his dependence on Beckett when things were bad. She had earned the respect she now received and just as she was about to rush out, he called after her. "Beckett, let me know if you need more time tomorrow or after, it's yours. Keep me apprised."

"Thank you Sir" she breathed and felt the weight of her captain's support lighten her load somewhat.

She wasted no time and arrived at the hospital in a little under half an hour. When she arrived he had been in surgery. She received an initial update and summation of the accident. On an icy New York day he had been out, probably touring his regular bars, which meant he had almost certainly been on it all day and would have by then been very drunk. However over time, his resistance had been built up and what would have certainly have put your average drinker down on their ass, was something he outwardly seemed to cope remarkably well with, but that didn't change the fact that there was an enormous amount of alcohol in his system, which brought its own inherent risks.

Fortunately he always had the sense to not drive, instead he used the subway and today on making his approach to the steps, he had slipped. In his inebriated state he hadn't been able to prevent the fall. Avoiding the rush hour, there were people available for assistance, but not bodies to hamper and therefore break his fall. He had tumbled down, cracking his head on the way at least a couple of times the first one knocking him out cold, which meant he took the unforgiving concrete drop completely uncontrolled. The first break in the steps hadn't slowed his momentum sufficiently, he tumbled again.

The result was a multitude of fractures. To his ribs, arm and most worryingly of all his skull and a traumatic brain injury. His surgery had lasted for hours and Beckett had endured the wait all alone. Eventually she had received optimistic news from the surgeon, they had managed to stabilise him and initial signs seemed encouraging, though they warned that the next few hours would be crucial. He would almost certainly remain in intensive care over-night, possibly longer depending on how he responded.

She had dozed fitfully, never feeling rested once she had been roused, which between working hospital personnel and alerting noises from the machines her dad had been hooked up to, was frequent. As if the stress alone wasn't enough to keep her from being able to rest.

For now she could only wait and talk to him without hope of response. But helped her, if not him, to do so. She found her mind returned to moments from her childhood, things they had done together, in happier days before they lost her mom, his wife.

"I remember you buying me my first bike. The smell in the shop; new rubber and exotic oils, totally unique. When I bought my first motorcycle it smelled exactly the same, I think that was a major factor in making up my mind to buy. I could say it was your fault you know, even though you didn't want me to ride one, it was you who started me out on that path."

* * *

><p>He had taken her to the shop, on a sunny Saturday morning. Already that day her Mom had made one of her special breakfasts, almost certainly in anticipation of them not returning right away once they had made their purchase. She was right.<p>

Her dad allowed her to choose the one she wanted, he bent down to Kate's level surveying the rows and rows of shiny machines. Some mounted on the walls, others suspended on raised stands, others resting in racks on the floor. "Which one takes your eye Katie?"

Young Kate Beckett toured the whole area. She ran her already analytical eye over each and every bike in the shop, not just the children's ones, but the adult size ones too. Their gears and break mechanisms were fascinating. Her father never rushed her with any of her decisions, in fact he actively encouraged all her interests and enquiries. He loved watching her sort through her thoughts and relished her questions as to why or how things worked. He noted her interest here, so he began explaining about the bikes mechanisms, what they were called and what they did.

Kate liked it best when she asked something he didn't know the answer to. "Lets find out, shall we?" he would say, and together they would look for answers in books, often prompting a visit to the library, or by asking someone who they thought would know. Together they would research the answers, all the while developing and broadening her interests, simultaneously satisfying and deepening her curiosity in the process.

She soon dismissed all the pink 'girly bikes', instead she was drawn to a chrome framed BMX, with chunky tires, padded with red guards on the handlebars and cross beam, and a matching red saddle and wheels. Kate being only four, it was a small bike, but she had loved it instantly. For the first couple of weeks she had been content to trundle around with stabilising wheels attached to the rear wheel, but soon little Kate Beckett decided she wanted to ride free of them. Her dad took Kate and her now two wheeled bike to the park, they found a long section of path, straight and flat, lined with grass on both sides. No helmet or pads back then, her dad was her only safety net.

She remembers the odd sensation as she sat on the saddle, the bike tilting awkwardly, even with her dad holding her upright with a hand on the seat and another supporting the handle bars. They covered the length the path several times over with him holding her up while she got a feel for it, gradually getting faster and without realising it, she was soon finding the point of balance. Unbeknown to Kate at the time, her dad was able to gradually lessen his degree of support, eventually lifting his hand from the handlebars, giving her full control over her steering.

"You've got it Katie!" he said, now running at an awkward crouch to keep up while she cranked the pedals with increasing confidence and fluidity of movement. He felt it when she had the bike perfectly balanced, and dared to let go completely. He slowed his run, watching his little girl as she rode off.

"Don't let go!" he heard her say, already fifteen yards separating them.

"I wont!" he called over the ever widening distance. Of course that tipped her off, causing her to attempt awkward glance back and soon after a panicked wobbling stop, which she almost managed but at the last moment - when she needed to disengage her feet from the pedals, which, up until that point hadn't been necessary and was therefore a totally foreign idea - she lost control. The bike ditched to the left and Kate spilled with it.

She remembers being so angry that he had let her fall, she was shaken up and her elbow was grazed and stinging. Her dad scooped her up and she clung to him even so. "Why did you let go?" she cried.

"Because you, my little Spitfire, were riding too fast and I couldn't keep up." His smile was all encompassing, brighter than the sun that day. "You did it Katie, you did it."

Realisation and belief settled upon her simultaneously, "I can do it?" There was only the slightest hint of a question in it. But her dad recognised it for what it was and he was quick to affirm her tenuous self-belief.

"You can do it." He confirmed proudly, as always he was keen to show her. He pressed a huge kiss to her head. "You're the best and I love you so much." She felt his confidence in her bolster her, the discomfort of her scraped elbow instantly forgotten. She smiled with her dad and hugged him with everything she had.

"Do you want to go again?" he asked, already knowing what her answer would be.

With hardly a moment's hesitation, Kate said "Yes" and with one extra squeeze Jim Beckett popped her back on her feet and together they righted her bike. By the time they were both worn out, Kate was able to set off alone, ride and steer, and even stop safely - without crashing.

* * *

><p>Sitting with him now she relates her memories of this event, telling him the stories of their shared past, and how special they are to her, of how they shaped the person she has become. And while the terrible event of her mother's murder and thereafter her father's downward spiral, have beaten both of them down, these moments and memories can never be taken from her, not so long as she holds fast to them. As she talks, her memories begin to flow in a stream, she gives voice to them as they come to her, each one leading to the next.<p>

"Remember the trick with the boiled egg?" she asks holding his hand, still talking to him, but lost now, in her own mind.

Sunday mornings were lazy in their house, her dad would comb over the Sunday papers during breakfast and Kate's mom would sometimes make her a soft boiled egg with toasted soldiers to dunk into the runny yolks. It was one of her childhood favourites, still something she craved even now as an adult. It was a taste as rich in memories as it was in flavour.

After each and every time young Kate finished her egg, having scooped it clean with her teaspoon, she would turn the egg shell upside down and place it back in the egg cup. Then she would place it in front of her dad, who would on queue drop the paper to find the offered egg. "Daddy, I can't finish my breakfast." she would tell him. "Do you want my egg?"

He would thank her, collect her spoon and prepare to crack into the egg, always hovering just over the point for a second, absorbing and relishing the sound of her giggles. Then he would break into the egg with gentle taps until it shattered hollowly. Finding the shell empty he would pull a face of shocked disappointment, then he would exclaim "You tricked me again!" which would of course delight Kate and make her laugh even more.

* * *

><p>Sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair she smiles at the silliness her dad had cultivated, "It never seemed strange that you would fall for it every time."<p>

Then she remembers the time they decorated her bedroom. Again she had been responsible for choosing the colour scheme she wanted, he accepted her choice without question, even though thinking about it now she wonders how her 7 year old mind had worked. "What was I thinking when we decorated my room?" She muses.

They went to the hardware store together to buy everything they would need. Her dad bought two sets of rollers and paint trays and two soft bristled brushes one for him, one for her.

They also bought paint in the right colours which Kate had selected from the colour cards, Yellow gloss paint on the woodwork, with both midnight and sky blue paint on the walls. "Guess I was never a girly girl huh?" By the time they left, their cart was stuffed full.

He talked to her about all the jobs they still had to do. In the days before they had emptied out all off her stuff, left large items stacked in the middle of the room covered in a gigantic white sheet. In the mean time she was temporarily sleeping in a guest room. They had washed the walls down, and her dad had painted the ceiling white, cleaned and undercoated the wood.

Before they had even got out of the car when they returned home, he asked "Are you ready to start?"

Kate eagerly nodded "Yes." They dressed in old clothes and set to work as soon as everything was unloaded from the car. She remembers the roller being ridiculously heavy in her hands when it was loaded and the way it would leave a cold spay of tiny droplets of paint on her hands.

Her dad was meticulous in his work, she remembers watching how precise he was in everything he did. He instructed her and gave her tips to help her as they worked side by side. Him working on the ladder at the top of the walls, her on the lower half. She stretched up on her tiptoes to get as high and cover as much wall as she possibly could. They worked up until dinner time, and by then they were both very hungry and Kate was worn out.

* * *

><p>"And then you told me, years later, that you waited until I had gone to bed to go back and patch up all the bits I had missed." She chuckled with a slight shake of her head. "I decorated my whole apartment myself though, you taught me really well dad."<p>

She thinks of the bear he got her. And while you couldn't quite call it a teddy, it was her soft companion, the one she took everywhere with her and remembers it being especially comforting when she was little and was feeling ill. The bear was made of cream fabric, similar to the texture of sheep's wool, so very soft and warm, giving back the warmth of her body when she hugged him tight. He had a brown snout and lovely warm eyes. When she was older she discovered that the bear had been hand made by a colleague of his and he had instantly fallen in love with it. He bought it on the spot knowing that his Katie would fall for him too. She had named him Bossley, though no one was quite sure how or why this came to be, they only knew that it fit and that he was her favourite.

Kate recalls the first baseball game he ever took her to and tells him to story from her point of view, that of en excited 8 year old, already with a massive interest in the game, which she loved because he did, because they played catch together and he would pitch for her to hit in the park on sunny afternoons. She remembers the sense of excitement as she walked towards the stadium hand in hand with him and how huge it felt as the shadow of the stand fell over them on their approach.

Even now, she is incapable of walking past a hotdog vendor without thinking of that day. And even without the aid of the smell of hot franks, cooking onions alone will often do the trick and she will think of her dad.

It is then that she realises just how much she has been missing him over the years he has been lost, battling his own grief and then addiction. It catches her unaware and it chokes her, constricting her throat as hot tears spill silently. Kate allows herself a rare moment where she lets her grief have her. She realises that without him, a large part of her history will be lost. She remembers a lot, but she knows he would remember so much more. She succumbs to the grief of having that link, not only to him, but to her mom also, severed.

She hopes beyond hope, that he will pull through this, and he will have the chance to re-do this conversation, this time with him. "Pull through this for me dad." She pleads and places a kiss to his head. "I love you." She retires to the slightly more comfortable sofa in the lounge, and sleeps fitfully until dawn.

* * *

><p>The next couple of days passed in a blur, she worked a few hours each day, mostly paperwork support, then would head off to the hospital to visit her dad. She continued her story telling, covering everything from squashing his sandcastles at the beach as fast as he could build them, to the way at four years old she would scream when anyone tried to cut her toenails, and one day in desperation he handed her the scissors and told her to do it herself. She did, and that was just fine.<p>

His scans indicated that the swelling to his brain had reduced considerably, his doctors were beginning to discuss the strategy for weaning him off the sedatives which had so far been keeping him under. While he had been unconscious they had also been treating him for his addiction and Kate remained cautiously optimistic that perhaps this could end up being a blessing in disguise. She dared to hope.

She was there when they brought him round. She will never for as long as she lives forget the look on his face when he realised she was there. His eyes were clear for the first time in a long time "There's my Spitfire." he said with a smile and lightness she once feared would be lost for good.

Tears spilled before she realised they were coming "Hi dad."

His recovery went well while he was still in the hospital. They decided he should have an extended stay, not only because of the head trauma, but because of his detoxification, which he was on board with. But Kate knew that the acid test would come when he was released, even though there was a support package in place for when that time came. Then it was all up to him, he had fallen at the first hurdle before.

On the day he was due to be released, she arrived having prepped the house, ready to take him home. She felt an odd mix of excitement and trepidation, promise and dread.

He was up and gazing out of the window at the rain lashed grounds of the hospital. "It's a beautiful day." he said, with a complete lack of sarcasm accompanying that statement, he turned to see her, a smile on his lips. She felt some of her worry drain away, her hope strengthen. What he did next bolstered her beyond words, beyond measure.

He held out a square black box, about big enough to hold a baseball, tied neatly with a yellow ribbon. "This is for you."

She took the package, tilting her head with a quizzical expression. She knew he had not left the hospital, he was to be released into her care. "What did you…?"

"Just open it." He advised. She nodded and turned her attention to the box, the pulled the ribbon to release the lid. Inside nestled in loosely scrunched black tissue paper was his watch. She looked up to find him looking intently at her. The question on the tip of her tongue. "It's time" he said simply.

"For?"

"For putting this behind me. For getting on with life. For letting the pain go. For holding on to you.

"I love you so much Katie, this time it'll stick."

And for the first time after such a promise, with her constant support, this was the one which was kept.


	4. I See Life in Pink

_Falling into the category of 'ridiculously late post episode pieces' This came after I re-watched The Good The Bad & The Baby & it explores the ground I wish they had done more to deal with in regard to Kate's resistance and unease in dealing with Cosmo._

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><p><strong>4<strong>

**I See Life in Pink**

Kate found herself drawn up from the depths of sleep. It was a gentle process, nothing had startled her awake, it felt natural, even though there was not even a hint of sunlight light yet in the eastern sky. Even so though the room was not entirely dark, ambient light from the city bathed the space in a ghostly glow. It was something you grew used to, but when you encounter the night sky in a less densely populated area, with reduced light pollution, such as up at her father's cabin or out by the ocean in the Hamptons, that you recalled how dark the night could actually be. Sometimes she would step outside only to be stopped in her tracks, blown away, as only someone who lives life largely in built up areas, where the sky is never truly revealed, can be. Instantly captivated by the vista stretching out to infinity right above your head. Kate Beckett loved moments like that, loved sharing them with Castle - and there was a tiny murmur from somewhere deep within her brain, still buried beneath the duvet of a heavy sleep, which asks why her disjointed post-sleep thoughts are spiraling to the cosmos now…

She glanced to the digital readout of the clock on the bedside table to her side of their bed. 04:26 it read in faint grey-blue light, the punctuation between the digits blinked away the seconds relentlessly, 26 ticked over to 27 while she watched, pondering on why she was awake at all.

She rolled gently to her back, stretching her spine once she had shifted. Whatever had woken her, it wasn't Rick. He was still as a log and would probably remain in the same position all night. Unlike her, he would find a comfortable position and not move once sleep claimed him. She on the other hand was far more restless and would change position regularly during the night. She had an intense disliking for any constrictive or heavy bedding, she liked to be untucked and able to move freely. Often she would often kick away the sheets only to wake cold and drag them back over herself in the pre-dawn chill, which was probably more to do with her metabolism than any real change in ambient temperature. It was a good job Rick was a heavy sleeper, or he would most likely have kicked her to the couch long ago.

She found herself listening intently to the now familiar sounds of the loft, not that there were many. The high quality glazing kept out most of the street sounds, which in the city famed for its lack of sleep, never died down entirely, however inside the sanctuary of these walls, there was only the faintest trace. The loft was its own little biosphere, separate, calm, cushioning its inhabitants from the din and clamour of the outside world.

There was only a whisper from the state of the art central air system, the electronic brain of which constantly monitored and regulated the temperature of each room on a minute to minute basis, it would independently adjust the settings to ensure their environment was perfectly conditioned for every moment they resided within these walls.

Aside from that, there was Castle's deep and slow rhythmic breathing beside her, and that was all. There should be no other sounds, yet she continued to strain her ears ...There was something.

Beyond Castle's breathing and her own, she found another, an altogether more rapid rhythm, shallow and soft all the same. She zoned in on it, filtering out everything else to fix her attention on this foreign noise. As she focused on it, the pattern changed it became erratic and more snuffly. Accompanying this was the barely audible swishing of soft fabric, hardly there at all, but her trained ears picked it up with ease, the rustling, for that's what it was now, was becoming more agitated by the second.

Kate's reptilian senses must have stirred long before the logical part of her brain, for now the primeval portion of her psyche began to rouse the still lethargic, higher functioning cerebrum from its slumber and with it came resolution.

The baby. Cosmo. Sleeping in a basinet close by Castle's side of the bed.

He had insisted, "You have work in the morning Kate, I can stay home and goof off with this little man. You need to get some rest."

She saw the sense in that, not only for the reason stated, but also because Rick was so much more comfortable and natural with the baby. She felt tense and unsure with the tiny boy. Actually not with Cosmo, she was more uncomfortable with herself, unsure of her ability to do exactly the right thing, precisely when he needed her to do it. She doubted that she could be good enough for him and underlying that thought there was a deeper fear, one which resounded though her entire being and which she dared not delve too deeply into, let alone admit to, not even to herself.

Rationally she knew she was over thinking things and that in her doing so, she was creating fear within herself which prevented her instincts from flourishing. Even though she craved that natural instinct, whished for it to assert itself, she was also afraid of it.

She also understood that the boy would pick up on these emotions and it would prevent their bond from strengthening, she also knew that she had been purposefully avoiding contact and the cultivation of a bond with him, for all these reasons and so many more.

Where Castle had leapt in without fear or reservation, Kate overwhelmingly felt trepidation and apprehension.

Kate accepted that an enormous part of it was down to experience, of which Rick had a vast catalogue to draw upon, where as she had hardly anything at all and that which she did have was all with children much older than Cosmo. Bigger was better, Kate thought. Cosmo was scary small and so helpless. Her inexperience felt insurmountable in the face of this brand new soul, who was entirely reliant on Castle and herself, at least for the time being. She felt ...inadequate.

The first sound of dissatisfaction came from the baby, she knew he was awake now and judging by that little grunt, she knew he would soon begin to cry, unless she did something to prevent it.

Castle had to be exhausted, as he was the one who had done the majority of the heavy lifting when it came to the baby. He been with him all morning, seeing to all the basic needs of a child who arrived with absolutely nothing, not even a name. Then he worked the case with her only to accept the boy back without reservation when he realized the plight of the child, who would otherwise have ended up in care at an all ready over-crowded crisis centre.

In truest Castle form he accepted responsibility for Cosmo instantly. What threw her most of all was that officially the boy would be under her care; her NYPD credentials meaning she was already vetted and therefore deemed trustworthy in the eyes of the state, even though in her own she was vastly unqualified for such duty.

But with Castle's insistence and reassurance that they would be fine, she acquiesced and in truth she had no desire to see the poor kid placed into a system already stretched beyond its limits, merely because of the pressures of the holiday and therefore lack of a better option. They were the option, with a wealth of resources free to offer, as Castle was keen to point out. Kate knew both she and Cosmo were going to have to rely heavily on Rick for the duration of the boy's stay.

They got him home with a minimum of fuss. Castle fitted the car seat into Kate's Charger with ease, then settled the baby in securing him with the harness. Almost as soon as they exited the precincts parking garage the boy fell asleep, lulled by the movement and hush inside the vehicle. Kate drove with ultra-caution, she already felt the responsibility for her precious cargo already weighing heavily on her. Cosmo hadn't roused once during the length of the ride home, only coming around slowly when Castle carried him up to the loft.

Castle responded with such natural paternal warmth. Kate watched him with the baby while he changed his diaper, the way in which he dealt with Cosmo holding him, talking to him and caring for him, it caused a genuine grin to burgeon. It was also the first time she began to feel a sense of comfort and contentment with the situation, with Cosmo in her arms, his form soft and warm snuggled against her, his tiny fingers grasping at her own. Kate found herself melting at her core. She felt her face flush and desire pool despite all the contradictory thoughts she'd harbored all day, her grin transformed into something else entirely. Castle caught her at precisely that moment, "What?" he asked.

Embarrassed she deflected with a simple response of, "Nothing" then diverted her attention back to the baby in her arms, though whether she was attempting to distract Castle or herself was highly debatable.

Castle had continued with his surrogate parental responsibilities long into the evening, he was a one man baby entertainment system; he bounced the child, played with him and told him nonsense stories from memory, which Kate felt sure they were Alexis' childhood favorites, committed to memory long ago. That was until Cosmo started to show signs of tiredness once more. Castle bathed the boy insisting that it would help him relax before bed. When they emerged from the bathroom the baby looked utterly content, relaxed and totally adorable as he lay snuggled against Castle's chest.

While they were bathing, Kate had prepared a bottle of formula, trusting herself enough to properly mix and warm it having read the instructions on the tin, now she handed it off to Castle who had settled himself on the couch with the increasingly sleepy boy in his arms. He had accepted the milk with a soft smile, automatically testing the milk's temperature against the delicate skin of his wrist. "Thank you Kate," he said his voice deep and soothing, she watched with admiration as nurtured him with both the milk and simple human contact as the child fed. The sucking was strong to begin with, he made short work of two thirds of the bottle, but gradually he slowed and just before he drained the last of the milk, his lips slackened altogether. Cosmo was fast asleep. Castle set aside the bottle, and smoothed the child's face with a gentle hand, "Sleep tight little guy," he whispered gently standing from the couch. "I'll put him to bed," he said with a goofy grin, "I don't think I'll be far behind him either. What do you say to a bowl of pasta and then bed?"

"Sounds good to me, I'll cook while you settle the house guest." Kate said watching the pair as Castle gently cradled the sleeping boy, carrying him to bed with a gentle stride. And there it was again, that heat within her, the stirrings of desire. Yes, she was now beginning to see the appeal and would address it in time, but not now. Until that time came, she decided she should use this experience to learn about Castle and to a greater extent, learn about herself.

After a swift dinner they stuck to the plan and went to bed. Castle was expecting a broken night's sleep and it wasn't long before the first disturbance, in the very early hours of the morning, "I got this, sleep Kate," he said and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple when she stirred at the baby's cries.

"'Kay" Kate mumbled sleepily and she vaguely heard Castles warm chuckle and felt the bed dip as Castle got up to attend to him, the cries shushed swiftly and then she was out one more.

This time however, Kate felt compelled to go to Cosmo, to comfort him and attend to his needs, whatever they may be. She slipped from bed, having the benefit of time to wake fully, she was quiet and agile as she skirted the foot of the bed, her bare feet silent on the plush carpet, she did not disturb Castle who was still in a deep sleep, no surprise given the day he'd had and the shift he'd put in.

She slowly approached the bassinette and the tiny boy cradled within, his snuffles had become louder now finding his voice, just seconds away from letting rip in Kate's estimation. As she drew nearer Kate could make out the scrunched expression on his tiny face. "Oh don't cry, here, come on baby." She said instinctively having reached his side, her words seemed to have the desired effect, the boy turned his head seeking out the source of the voice, his cry temporarily suspended. Kate immediately reached in to scoop him up in her arms, somehow now it was just down to her, it all seemed to fall into place. "Yeah, that's better," she cooed softly working to adjust her hold on him, cradling him in her left arm now leaving her right free. She rested her palm on his warm tummy, stroking soothing circles there. "Come on little man, let's give Uncle Rick a break hmm? He's really sleepy."

Kate lifted the baby's soft blanket from his bed to take with them, she slung it over her right shoulder then made for the door to Castle's adjoining office and the rest of the loft beyond. Once she'd passed though the office and into the living room, now having two sets of closed doors between them, she felt a little more secure. She hoped to avoid waking Castle at all. She could do this.

She knew that the hug and a chat would only work for so long, he needed something from her and as if signaled by that thought the baby began to cry in earnest. "Oh, I know sweetie, being a baby sucks doesn't it? Can't go anywhere, can't tell people what you want… Well that's why I'm here to help you, see?" Kate tried to keep her voice calm and soothing even though there was just the tiniest hint of worry, of doubt creeping, stalking, threatening. She chose to ignore it and if it grew she fully intended to crush it down before it could grow in stature.

"Okay, so the way I figure it, you're after only a very select number of things right now and my best guess is that you need a combination of at least two or three of them. So, how about we start with the most obvious and work our way through?" And there was one very obvious problem, demanding to be dealt with without further delay. She carried the baby over to Castle's blanked clad sofa, which had been serving as their changing area.

So far changes had been Castle's domain, but she figured that the application of a fresh diaper would not be beyond her. She settled Cosmo on his back, keeping him well away from the edge, with his head to the left and legs to the right, in what felt like the most natural position to get this done. Everything she needed had been stored in a plastic box on the floor to her right, she got everything out first and placed it on the sofa, she even had the presence of mind to loosen the seal on the wipes and check over the eco-friendly diaper first, spreading it out to familiarize herself with it before she attempted to remove the dirty one. "That looks about right, what do you think?" she asked the boy out loud, setting the diaper aside, ready in what she hoped would indeed turn out to be the right way round, ready to slide under his bottom once clean. Cosmo's cries continued, but they were not yet at a volume or intensity which concerned her. "Let's get this done, then you'll feel much better okay sweet boy?" And with that Kate began unsnapping the poppers on his onesie, opting to take it off completely rather than only pulling the bottom half off as she'd seen Castle do earlier that evening. "I'm not ready for that level of sophisticated technique, not yet," she found herself voicing her inner thoughts, she felt like it was helping both of them to have this one sided narrative conversation running, so Kate kept it up.

She slipped the onesie off, revealing his gloriously round tummy and chunky legs with adorable creases on his thighs. "Look at these legs!" she exclaimed in wonder, her fingers were drawn to them instinctively softly doodling patterns on his skin, which seemed to sooth him further and the cries tapered off noticeably. "Are you ready now? Let's do the dirty deed."

Kate pulled the Velcro tapes away and opened up the package, leaving it there for the time being. "No peeing on Kate now," she said with a smile, gently lifting both his legs which he obligingly bent just so, once she brought his feet together. She rolled him up easily then grabbed some wipes to clean him, completing the job with three. Pleased with her work she bundled the wipes up in the dirty diaper, then rolled it into a neat ball setting it aside to deal with later. Swiftly she brought the fresh, strategically placed diaper under his hips, then gently lowered his legs, wrapping the front over before securing it with the fresh tapes. "Yes, that's much better isn't it?" she asked folding the top band over leaving them with a neat and comfortable looking finish. "Stage one complete!"

Kate took a moment to check over the onesie. It felt fine, dry and cozy so she redressed him in the same one and was by far more difficult than the diaper, getting his little wriggling legs into it was hard, getting his arms in was worse especially the second one, when she had to stretch the cloth in ways it wasn't designed to in order to get him inside. "What's going on here little one? Come on, help me out," gently she kept at it, manipulating both the garment and his arm and eventually she got him in. She made swift work of the poppers once she'd made sure she had lined the first one up correctly. Then she lifted him in victory, "All finished! How's that my little friend?" she snuggled him close to her against her shoulder where he fit against her body in such a natural way that she began to wonder why she had found holding him so freaky earlier. Kate stood up, patting his freshly changed butt in what she came to realise was a heartbeat like rhythm and she wondered idly how that happened.

"So what's next?" she mused, "I think you might be ready for some milk," she checked the time for confirmation and figured it had been almost four hours since his last bottle. "How about we try that then see if you might go back to sleep?"

Earlier she had made extra formula for just this instance, so all it needed was warming in a water bath, and they should be home and dry. Kate dropped the bottle into a jug and topped it off with water from Castle's top of the line 'instant boiling water' tap, managing to do all that with just her free hand, keeping Cosmo snuggled safely against her on her left side. "Won't be long."

While the bottle warmed she found herself shifting side to side, rocking and gently bouncing the baby with the movement of her body and then she found herself humming what she first thought was a nonsense tune, but soon her mind supplied words, sung by the deeply smoky voice instantly recognizable as Louis Armstrong, but under that she heard a second voice, one much softer but no less emotive, the voice of her mother.

Until that moment she had forgotten that her mom used to sing that song to her, but now it came flooding back with startling clarity, which shocked her in the most wonderful way, it made her heart leap in her chest and she felt her legs tremble as her eyes flooded with hot tears. But these were not tears of despair, they were tears of sweet recollection flooding her with her mom's love, which had power still, to reach beyond the years which had separated them since her death.

Kate both lost and found herself in that moment.

Her humming choked off briefly, but she continued to sway, enjoying the memory and the closeness of the boy in her arms. She thought of her mom and his mom, who must be so lost without her son and desperate. Kate clutched him a little tighter. "We'll find her baby, promise," she reassured the boy. Then having once more found her voice, she resumed the song, this time singing along with the two voices still resounding through her mind and her soul. "Hold me close and hold me fast, The magic spell you cast, This is la ve en rose…"

Her thoughts sped along as she sung, she thought not only of her mom, and his, but she began to think of herself as one. Of a child of theirs, of what their baby might be like and of all the moments like this she would have and share with Castle. She realised how much she wanted it. More than she thought she could, considering how she felt at the beginning of the day, even into the evening. But a confidence and desire was growing, along with belief.

Belief in herself and what their future could look like and this time it was both clear and not at all frightening.

She reached the end of the song, her voice smooth and confident. "Give your heart and soul to me, And life will always be, La vie en rose."

Unseen by her a shadow shifted slightly in in the doorway, moved by the words she sang and the passion, wonder and hope contained within them.

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><p><em>I would like to say thank you to all who left messages in response to the previous chapter, especially you Moochiecat, who I would have contacted to thank in person, but I can't PM guests and I couldn't find anyone here with that name. However know that your words helped as did writing the piece in the first place. My dad died shortly after I published chapter three and I have no regrets burdening me and feel that I did everything I could to ease his passage to whatever, wherever he went...<em>


	5. Beans & Sprouts

**_Beans and Sprouts_**

Beckett just can't get enough leafy greens.

Spinach, kale, cabbage – preferably cavolo nero or savoy, the darker green the better - and of course there are Brussels sprouts, with which she is borderline obsessed at the moment. It's a good job they're in season and available in abundance. Sprouts with everything, even in her breakfast omelette. She probably passed the borderline into full blown obsession when she first requested such a concoction, but she can't help it. She can think of worse things to crave, at least they're healthy, good for both her and baby she carries.

Castle baby number two, currently half way through a long, slow bake. Twenty weeks and unmistakably pregnant now, she's bigger this time around.

With Lilly she had craved baked beans - a craving which started early and lasted throughout - though any kind of bean was incredible and thoroughly enjoyed, at least by her. The rest of the family? Not so much - but as Kate had been severely adverse to any meat based foods throughout roughly half of her first pregnancy, she had substituted it with her craved beans as a good alternative protein source.

It's a love which has been passed on to Lilly, who at two and a half years old earned the nickname 'The Bean Queen', as she'd gorge herself on them if ever they were available at meal times. "'Ave some more?" She would ask after clearing them from her plate leaving everything else untouched. She would receive more of her beloved beans only after she had been persuaded to have a little of what she still had first.

Castle was the one to give her the nickname, of course. He called her 'Bean' even before she had been born, before they knew if the baby was a boy or girl. Ever since seeing her on their first scan, which had been unexpectedly early due to some spotting Kate had experienced. The scan allayed any fears they had quickly and unreservedly once they saw their baby on screen and received assurances from Kate's OB that everything looked normal.

"There's our little Bean," Castle said when the screen was turned. For the first time, Kate was able to see the one responsible for her current unbalanced emotional state, the bouts of crippling sickness and fatigue which had plagued her over recent weeks. She looked at him quizzically through the lingering sheen of tears. "You've been eating so many you've even made them look like one!" She'd hit him, then laughed with relief, letting go of the worry she'd carried since waking that morning.

Now 4 years old and though she loves food in general, Lilly is still a bean fiend. Castle has done more than his fair share to cultivate and feed her obsession; creating his own 'baked bean' recipe which he has developed over the course of Lilly's existence, beginning in utero and tweaking it slightly ever since then, until achieving absolute perfection. Though that probably won't stop him dabbling.

As with his writing, cooking is a medium of expression and freedom of creation for Castle, therefore it's an area he enjoys and excels in… usually. There has been the odd abomination when creativity has been pushed to the very boundaries of taste and decency and beyond. But not this dish.

He makes it with a ham hock and crafts a rich and spicy tomato sauce heady with garlic and herbs and just a hint of smokiness flavouring the beans. He insists on cooking it in the most ridiculously heavy Dutch Oven cast iron pot, "It's authentic. You can't underestimate the importance of staying true to the origins of food during its preparation. It makes it taste better," he says and she has to admit, it has done something to enhance the flavour since he found the pot and began using it.

Slow cooked the whole thing reaches a sumptuous melt in the mouth consistency by the time it is ready to eat.

The dish is a meal in itself, though he loves to serve it with mac & cheese and a good hunk of crusty bread.

It has become a ritual to have his beans at least one weekend out of each month, where he hosts a dinner for Lilly usually following one of two themes; either a cowboy campout conjured out of their combined imaginations and using a few select props - including a Stetson each, a circle of large river polished stones mimicking a campfire to set the hot Dutch on the floor, a battered rug to sit on and a couple of bed rolls - within the confines loft. Kate is always reminded of their Honeymoon and she's sure his inspiration has sprung from that night they spent under the stars. She's sure it's only a matter of time before they have a cookout for real, perhaps they can take a trip out to the cabin once the summer rolls round, or maybe the autumn, depending on the baby.

Alternatively he would host a regal tea party for their daughter; 'Her Royal Highness Lilly, Queen of Beans'. Where he would act as an extravagantly over the top English butler and wait on his daughter and other attendees at their little soiree.

No beans are on offer tonight though. With their whole family gathered around the table and Christmas dinner in full swing, Kate eyes up the food on offer. This time she has not found meat to be unappetising. The glazed ham looks deliciously inviting and the whole table is covered with serving dishes brimmed with delicious vegetables and other trimmings. Though what captures her attention and makes her mouth water most are the sprouts.

Castle carves slices from the joint. Passing the first plate to Kate so she can help Lilly dish out her vegetables. Her daughter takes a little from each as it passes her way, accepting the cabbage without argument. She knows Lilly actually quite likes it, she has done since she was a baby, so long as they cooked the vegetable well, so that it was soft and left it in a string like a pasta noodle, then she would quite happily munch on the strand. Now Kate can leave the cabbage with a bit more bite, as she prefers it and her daughter will still dig in. She's a little more suspicious with the kale, but they think this is a textural thing, rather than an objection to the flavour. Kate's not worried, Lilly's appetite has always been good and so far they seem to have avoided the 'fussy eating' stage for the most part. There are very few foods Lilly doesn't like, or at the very least try.

Kate is convinced that Lilly's enjoyment of such a wide variety of food is thanks largely to them introducing food through 'Baby Led Weaning', a concept they were introduced to when she was pregnant. At first she was sceptical, but having talked to other parents who had already introduced food to their children in this way, she began to understand the benefits.

They were in a fortunate position. Kate was free to take an extended maternity leave, essentially having no finantial constrictions forcing her back to work quickly and she had gained both approval and reassurance from Gates that her position would remain secure even while on unpaid leave. She worked up to and beyond her due date, which came and went without the slightest sign of action, in doing so she gained even more time at home after Lilly finally made her debut appearance.

Kate opted to breast feed. Only weaning onto solid foods when Lilly began to show interest in the things they were eating and for them, the scheme had worked a treat. Mealtimes remained essentially stress free and hardly more complicated than they had been when it was just them.

Perhaps it was the baby led weaning coupled with the fact that each member of the family enjoys cooking and they all have their speciality dishes, most of which Lilly has shared in since she started on solid food.

Helping Lilly reach dishes beyond her reach on the table Kate passes the next item, "Would you like some sprouts my Little Bean?" she asks, generously offering up some of her prized foodstuff.

Her daughter hums a non-committal note, avoiding answering. But unable to stop a pained expression manifesting on her face; her mouth twists to the right while her nose and eyes scrunch. Her gaze dodges away from her Mom flicking to Castle briefly, then back again.

"No thank you," she manages politely, but Kate can see there's a thought troubling her daughter and she's working round it. "Daddy says they're like a little green trump in your mouth."

"Castle!" Kate barks in shock, immediately annoyed at him for saying something which will offput the girl. But under these emotions and thoughts, the phrase spirals in her mind, picking up speed as she processes what her daughter has just said, along with the fact that the description caused her such evident concern, plus the innocent delivery of her objection and it strikes Kate as enormously funny.

She attempts to hold her amusement at bay, disguising it by levelling 'The Look' at Castle, folding her arms for effect even while she finds herself biting her lip in an attempt to stave off a building laugh.

Others around the table are having no such dilemma though. Alexis all out belly laughs. Martha and her Dad are slightly more reserved, but not by much.

Under the weight of Kate's still unwavering glare, Castle meanwhile looks panicked and stutters his excuse, "I may have said that, but never to Lilly… Last Week! I was on speakerphone with Esposito and Ryan, the subject of your obsessive consumption of the things might have come up. Oh, Kate she must have overheard. I didn't mean for her to hear, or to insult you, nor your beloved sprouts. Most definitely not _our_ Little Sprout in there, who I know compels you to eat them with such redoubtable ferocity…"

That is the final straw. The chuckle had been burbling since he began his babbling defence, while around them the laughter is a self-fuelling vortex and Kate can no longer keep hers under wraps. She lets it go in a gale, still hearing Lilly's words in her head 'A little green trump in your mouth'.

Kate may never look at sprouts again in the same way, but she won't be able to stop eating them either.

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><p><em>So Lilly is back, she had to be to in order to tell this little tale.<em>

_I don't know if you gathered what a 'trump' is, as used here. If you didn't, I will use a definition from the Urban Dictionary and tell you that a trump is 'a__ polite way to suggest the passing of wind.' I toyed with the idea of using a more recognisable word, but I like the innocence of that euphemism, so decided to stick with it. _

_And yes, I really do know someone who describes sprouts as I have used here and it makes me laugh every time._

_Also, I don't know if the rest of the world has the Love/Hate relationship with Brussels Sprouts we Brits seem to have, hopefully this will translate. In my book it's not Christmas dinner without them, no matter which side of the debate you fall on._

_Happy Christmas!_


	6. Cheeseburgers

Kate was welcomed into Ryan's apartment in the usual way. She and Castle were warmly invited in by the adults, before the official household welcome wagon rolled in, taking the form of an excitable, hurtling three and a half year old girl, now shouting Kate's name as she closed the distance between the living room and their front door in a rush.

Sarah Grace careened into Kate's legs, grabbing the right one just above her knee and wrapping it up in a delighted hug, "Aunt Kate!" she squealed.

"Hi Baby Girl," Kate greeted her warmly, stroking a hand through her sandy blonde hair. The girl's blue eyes had the warmth and vibrancy of a summer sky and Beckett bathed in their gaze as Sarah Grace tilted her head up grinning, enjoying and anticipating the affection she always received when Kate and Rick came to visit.

"Hey Sweet Pea," Castle greeted her too, he knew he'd get a look in eventually, but Kate was Sarah's favourite and he loved seeing them together.

The girl peered out from behind Beckett's legs smiling almost shyly at him. "Hi Uncle Rick."

Her attention immediately fell almost exclusively back on Kate and soon she released her leg, stepping back half a pace she extended her arms, silently asking to be hoisted onto Kate's hip, same way she always did, since she had had leaned to walk.

Kate remembers the first time she had witnessed her wobbly walk of six steps, from Ryan's supporting hands to her legs, while Ryan watched on from behind his daughter eyes shimmering with pride. That first time, the last step was a lunge, and Kate had moved quickly to prevent the newly toddling child from falling as she crashed into her, before scooping her up and praising her for her momentous trek. Somehow it had become a ritual between them ever since.

"Uh, Sweetie, Aunt Kate can't pick you up any more," Ryan said softly, mindful and cautious of Kate's 'condition'.

Kate rolled her eyes and huffed softly in frustration, already growing tired of the molly coddling. Sarah Grace meanwhile only looked disappointed and confused. Looking first to Kate, then her dad for an explanation.

Ryan moved in, "Because," he began scooping her into his arms instead, "your Aunt Kate is having a baby."

The explanation did little to enlighten the girl though and her puzzled look remained trained on Ryan, clearly expecting more information. He glanced at Kate who only shrugged.

"Here look," he said adjusting her on his hip, moving so that Sarah was now between Kate and himself. Shuffling his feet slightly he moved in closer so that from her elevated position his daughter could see the protrusion of Kate's tummy.

Kate pushed her belly out proudly with a shift of her hips emphasising its jutting presence. At seventeen weeks she thought it was already pretty obvious, even more so than just a couple of days ago, her shape had changed and become a genuine bump.

"A baby?" Sarah asked almost timidly. Looking to Kate who nodded confirming Ryan's words.

"Yeah," her dad replied grinning at Beckett. "Pretty amazing isn't it?" He'd been overjoyed to hear of the impending addition. Of course all of her friends had been when they told them, especially Lanie; she was such a baby person and was already planning on how she was going to spoil the baby once they arrived.

But Ryan was different, his reaction exhibited in a quieter yet no less enthusiastic form. There was a softness to his smile, a certainty. Instinctively Kate knew why this was, there was a common bond growing between them. He knew what they were feeling, because he was already a parent.

Kate wondered if this had this been there between Ryan and Castle already, long before she fell pregnant. Possibly from the moment Ryan told them Jenny was expecting. She looked across at Castle now, who was just silently observing the moment with a soft smile. Their grins widened when their eyes met briefly.

"Where is it?" Sarah Grace asked, "Where's the baby?"

Beckett's teeth played over her bottom lip as she suppressed a giggle, perhaps it wasn't yet as obvious as she thought. "Right here," she supplied, her hands now running over the soft fabric of her sweater, fitting snuggly over her bulge. "Want to feel it?" she asked gently taking the girl's hand and laying it next to her right hand which had never left contact.

She let go of Sarah's hand, which, after after a brief questioning look and reassuring nod from Kate, began to gently roam and press gently into the firmness of Kate's bump.

"There's a baby in your belly?" She asked with widened eyes.

Kate hummed her reply, "Mmm-hmm."

"Wow," the girl said in a whisper, which made Kate break out her megawatt smile.

Sarah Grace fell silent though, a frown once more crossing her brow and darkening her eyes slightly.

Kate shifted slightly, anticipating the question of, 'How did it get there?' - But it never came. Instead she looked between Kate, then Rick and back to Kate again, weighing her thoughts.

Her frown pinched more as she began her question, directed once more to Kate, "Does Uncle Rick have a baby in his belly too?"

Ryan and Jenny looked instantly mortified at the bluntness of their daughters question.

So did Rick for entirely different reasons.

Kate, meanwhile, fought with everything she had, the laugh that was brewing at her core. Instead she shook her head and gave a dead panned reply, delivered with complete sincerity, the answer which formed with even more speed than her laughter, "No, just cheeseburgers."

Sarah Grace nodded, her eyes locked onto Kate's accepting her answer without further question.

At last Kate let the laughter bubble over like lava, and everyone but Rick joined her.

"Time to lay off the sympathy cravings?" Castle asked looking sheepish.

Beckett just blew though a renewed gale of laughter.


End file.
